Doomed Queen Sakura
by Authoress24
Summary: She was simply superior them all. {NaruSaku vs. SasuSaku}
1. Prologue: The Doomed Queen

_Doomed Queen Sakura_

**Prologue**

"_If I must die, then I will die boldly, as I have lived."_

_~ Doomed Queen Anne_

Arrogance.

It was my strongest factor. Yet my weakest pinpoint.

One action against me or my pride, and my spiteful, sometimes hateful, but most definitely hurtful, words _will_ set ablaze a fire so furious, they shall burn your soul to a crisp. The fire inevitable and unquenchable.

_Painful. _

_Slow._

_Burning._

And as I, Queen Sakura Haruno, sat upon my throne that day, and glared down murderously and mercilessly at the messenger, I recalled upon everything that had lead about to this moment.

My undoing.

My _unhinging._

My murder.

Albeit my pounding rages and wrong-doings, I cannot help but feel hurt.

For even if I did not love him with _all_ of my heart, even if I _could_ not love him the way he loved me, I _did_ love him – and even now. Even _now _as he orders about for my cruel beheading, I still do.

I was always passionate about everything I did...

I suppose I was a passionate lover too.

* * *

He calls me a traitor. And he has decided my fate for me. And this fate he - I know - has chosen out of spite, rage, and hurt. But I cannot help but feel even a tiny bit thankful. At least, my ending will be curt, blunt, and dramatic.

Our – the one I love with all my soul, and my – hands are intertwined.

And even where I stand now, I know I have won the game.

* * *

_She struggled against them. She fought, bit, and kicked – but alas, she could not stand a fight against the brutes. They – the soldiers – gripped her tightly by the forearms, and would give her a shaking or two if she struggled. After all, they could not hit her._

* * *

_Checkmate. _

Pride.

It was – is – my biggest, yet most alluring and witty sin. It is a sin that I have yet to be outmatched at.

* * *

_B__ut she, even then, would not give them even that little sense of control and satisfaction._

_She outright refused so._

* * *

I reached too high.

* * *

_She stood strong and tall, and refused to back down. No matter who testified against her. No matter who wanted to kill her. No matter what they thought. No matter how many times the maids and servants attempted to poison her. No matter whom the judge set to work against her. No matter what the king said. No matter what the king thought._

* * *

Then I wanted too much - I _knew_ I wanted too much.

* * *

_She was queen. _

* * *

I wanted _love._

But regardless of my recognized faults, if I had the chance, I would _not_ take _any_ of it back.

I succeeded.

I made myself known.

I made myself unforgettable.

The mere woman whom turned the most powerful man in all of Konohagakure – the king, if you will, into a pawn.

A rag doll.

A _marionette. _

_Oh how foolish he was._

I have become the most memorable ruler of all rulers.

_I, the Doomed Queen Sakura._

* * *

"_Off with their heads!"_

* * *

I accept my death readily.

For I have completed all that I prayed for.

* * *

_And _everyone_ knew the queen outranked the king._

* * *

So if I _must _die, then I shall die _boldly_. Just as I have _lived. _

* * *

_Blood splatters across the marble floors._

* * *

**A/N: Which version do you like better? Read & Review.**


	2. Chapter One: Have You No Shame?

_Disclaimer: I have no own or claim over Naruto._

_Doomed Queen Sakura_

Chapter One:

_**Have You No Shame?**_

She graces her hand across the page, and recalls upon when she drew the portrait. She lets her finger tips collect dust from the old thing, and then sits it down. She stands from her mother's old bed and dusts off her skirts. Then the girl brushes and soothes them down after.

The pinkette goes about through the room, reminiscing her and her mother's memories. Sakura remembers when they took her away. When _they_ – those brutish soldiers – took her away, and tortured her. The motherless girl remembers when the Uchiha Clan Leader, Fugaku Uchiha, ordered for her torture to stop - but only to renew and revive Mebuki's punishment as to be beheaded. Sakura could still see the crimson that stained her mother's white dress. It only stained, but did not taint.

For her mother could never be tainted.

_Or could she?_

The girl only sees those flashes as nightmares. For how could her mother simply die? How could the purest and most selfless woman in the kingdom simply up and leave her own daughter?! And how, please tell her how, how could her mother be dead if she appears next to Sakura every night? Her mother would sometimes be right next to her, while she wept and wailed, holding her and singing all the lullabies Sakura loved so much. And sometimes, Sakura would join in.

So someone please tell her, how, just how, could her mother be…

_Dead…_

Sakura breaks down into tears. Simple tears turn into waterfalls, and an agape mouth begins to spew, spit, wail, sob, and make gurgling noises – possibly even drip venom, if she could.

"_How could she?!"_ the invalid, female heir to the Haruno family spits.

And then, _she_ appears, just as she always does. Silently, the woman, Sakura's mother, gently sets both hands on each of the sobbing girl's shoulders.

"Dearest Princess… Why do you fre –"

"Damn you and your allusions!" Sakura attempts to bellow, but her voice spills out shaky and soft - she is truly hurt. "You betrayed me…" the girl cries softly. "You _betrayed_ me!"

The ghost of a woman moved swiftly. With a twirl, Mebuki ends up in front of her sobbing daughter.

"How so?" the ghost of Sakura's mother – _no._ The_ ghost a woman_ questions. Or was she simply attempting to challenging her daughter?

"You _abandoned me_!" Sakura glowers, her voice dark and her eyes ruthless – unforgiving, she is.

She would _never_ forgive.

She could _never_ forget.

"You became selfish." Sakura begins again.

"You _betrayed_ me, your own _daughter_. You _betrayed_ Kizashi, your own _husband_. And Mikoto – oh poor, poor Mikoto… one of your _very best friends… _You left us for a man whom has yet to think of you _twice._"

Sakura has come to despise Lord Fugaku Uchiha.

"Was I not punished for it?!"

Sakura gives her mother an ice cold glare.

"Punishment does not mean you are sorry for what you have done."

But she has come to despise her mother more.

"Alright then!" the woman screams.

" I apol –"

"Being apologetic does nothing to fix the disgrace that you have brought upon us. You ruined both, my family and the Uchiha's."

"It was not only I!" Mebuki cries out in exasperation, her right hand pushed against her nearly flat bosom, her fingers clinging to the fabric of her dress as if they might fall to their deaths.

"_You_ could have said no! _You should_ have said _no!_" Sakura refuses to give her deceased mother's ghost any source of sympathy - if it was even a ghost. The pinkette might've just been imagining it. But she needs closure. She needs to tell her mother everything she needs to say.

So she goes along with it.

With a cold and fearless gleam of superiority in her emerald eyes, Sakura attacks her mother with what would be a, "_Finish her!_" only verbal, rather physical.

"_Burn in Hell_."

And with a broken heart, the ghost – for this… _whore_ was no longer Sakura's mother – vanishes.

Sakura prays she would _never_ return ever again.

The pink-haired girl plumps down unto the bed and continues to play with the softness of its lace. She'd have to rearrange the room tomorrow.


	3. Chapter Two: The Lady and the Lord

_Disclaimer: I have no own or claim over Naruto_

_**Doomed Queen Sakura**_

Chapter Two:

_**The Lady and the Lord**_

I raise my drooping head to a soft knock on the door.

"Who is it?" I call out just as soft.

The knocking gets a bit harsher, louder even.

"Who is it?" I growl out louder than before.

Another bang follows.

I jump to my feet and storm up to the door.

Everyone in this God forsaken house knows I'm in a _horrid_ temper!

Who would _dare_ to pour _oil_ all over my _furiously burning rage_?!

I throw the door open; it slams against one of my marble walls. I glare mercilessly at the servant in the doorway. My glare seems to lessen into a hard stare because the stuttering of the servant – Hinata, I learned her name was – is beginning to falter. Though it's still there, it's not as bad or harsh as before.

"What do you want?" I ask quite rudely.

But as I have explained before:

I am in a terrible, terrible temper.

I'll simply apologize later.

"K-K-King M-M-Minato and Qu-queen K-Kushina have r-requested y-you and y-your father to j-join them a-and m-many o-others for the ball t-to the heir t-to th-the th-throne," Hinata hands me two white envelopes. In the centre, with the neatest handwriting I've ever seen – albeit my own – it says: "For Lady Sakura Haruno". On the other: "For Sire Kizashi Haruno".

_ So it _is_ true_…, I think in amazement.

I am in shock. So in shock, I've been rendered speechless.

Once I have returned to myself, I nod excessively in response. Though my tongue has run dry, I manage to at least stumble over my words. All that matters is that I get them out.

"I – I – I accept!" I somehow manage to shout at the top of my lungs, out of my shut-tight throat.

Hinata nods then scribbles what I assume to be me and my father's name. Then she hurries off down the hall. As the ebony-haired servant scurries down the hall, I shout my apology. It might've fallen deaf on her ears, but I have more significant thoughts and things to attend to.

_And to think, I thought the queen hated me…, _I muse to myself silently.

My eyes lower themselves to the wooden planks, matted by smooth and soft, red velvet carpet I call my floor. I absentmindedly close my door and set myself back unto the plush, soft, mattress adorn with golden, crimson, and white décor I call my bed.

Thump.

I instantly become alert. Calmly, and carefully, my gaze trails over to my door.

_A foot is blocking it, _I analyze mechanically, robotically.

_Yes, yes indeed, _a taunting voice in my head says.

_A very familiar foot, isn't it?_

"What is it, Lord Sasuke?" I gaze up at the raven lazily, expectantly rather.

He shuffles over not seconds later, and sits on my bed. The bed creaks under his weight. There's about 2 inches between he and I. I raise a brow at his bowed head.

"Are you going?" he asks lowly, his gruff and deep voice making something inside me intoxicated. It always does. I nod. "Yeah," I manage out softly.

"I can't believe we got invited!" he sounds ecstatic now. Lord Sasuke's eyes are lit bright as day. His cheeks are tinted with a bloody blush. His smile's wider than the universe. He's so cute. I nod again.

"The queen and your mother have been best friends since… forever," I point out. "They have a deep and boundless bestfriendship." I turn away, now _my_ pink bangs are covering my emerald eyes.

He gives a light shrug.

"Your mother too." He promises softly. I simply shake my head in response.

"I… I… I heard them – all three of them – argue, Sasuke… All three of us did."

The raven-haired bastard rests his head on my shoulder. I turn my head to look at him a bit. A grim scowl is plastered over his handsome features.

"My mother died. No – she didn't die as a honorable Lady of Nobility. She was executed – as a traitorous, friendship betraying, disappointing, selfish whore."

I can tell that Sasuke's letting my words sink in. "I myself, as Mebuki's _daughter_, have come to believe that – I have come to know that – true."

Sasuke sits up. The raven simply opens his arms and waits for me to fall into them. But I just stare for him for a while.

How can one know another better than they know themselves?

Sometimes, I believe Lord Sasuke would take a bullet for me… But I have always been one for hyperboles.

I slowly rest my head on Sasuke's shoulder and nuzzle gently. I don't think. I just do.

My lips gently push against the paleness of Lord Sasuke's cheek. It is my thanks. My gratitude. My gratefulness to him. My loyalty to Lord Sasuke.

And possibly, even my love for Lord Sasuke.

We say nothing. Not a word is said.

Lord Sasuke and I only sit, and continue to listen to the sound of the in and out of each other's breaths. We only continue to feel the rise and fall of each other's chest. We can almost feel the swift and, by now, gentle ocean current, rocking us into peace. We can almost feel it rocking us into oblivion.

Every once in a while it is nice.

It is nice to not think.

But only _do._


	4. The Lady, the Lord, and the Tailoress

_Disclaimer: I have no claim over Naruto._

**Doomed Queen Sakura**

Chapter Three:

_**The Lady, the Lord, and the Tailoress**_

I sigh heavily as my tailoress, Ino Yamanaka, sews my dress to pure perfection. She was done with actually sewing it ages ago. Now, to my pleasure, but dismay, she's simply perfecting its imperfections.

But I have never had the right amount of patience for _anything_.

"I do not mean to be so…" I trail off, unsure of how to describe my rude and snappiness. Testy, possibly?

"Bitchy," Yamanaka states coldly, like it's a fact – I flinch slightly. I see the corner of her mouth tilt up slightly.

_How dare she?!, _part of me rages – the part that is impertinent, impulsive, manipulative, sly, cunning, and undoubtedly bitchy.

I attempt to calm myself, but to no avail.

I remember that Ino Yamanaka knows her way with a needle – let alone a box full of them.

I find, not within my calm sensibility, but my raging fury, that I do not care.

"Such a hypocrite you are," I say simply. It is true, is it not?

The blonde woman pauses, and then continues on. I struck a nerve.

I smirk, triumph gracing my features.

Then I feel pain. A thick liquid is running down my thigh – but it does not ruin my dress.

The peasant stabbed me.

She stabbed me!

This lowly, whore of a bitchy peasant pricked me!

On purpose!

_But are not we both peasants, _the compassionate side of me questions gently. _Is she not any better – in status – than you?_

My body reacts before I can truly think it through properly.

I swiftly swipe the needle from between Tailoress Yamanaka's beautifully manicured fingers. I swipe so fast, neither she, nor I could see. Needle in hand, and thoughts unorganized, I quickly slash down.

I jam the need into the back of Yamanaka's hand, and then pull the needle out. Blood flies through the air, a few droplets splash against my face – none land on my dress. My compassion managed to coax my rage into relenting. I should've stabbed all the way through.

"The dress is done," Peasant – no, _Tailoress_ Ino croaks out in pain, holding tight and desperately to her bloody hand – I'd bet my undergarments I stabbed her good hand.

Intensely, I glare at her and examine the dress for myself in the mirror. It looks gorgeous. I suppose I do too. I avoid looking at my face because I know what's there. I know I'll be terrified of myself. I know there's a wicked and wild gleam in my eyes. I know there's the slight curl of my lip in satisfaction. I know that I look greatly pleased for what I just did – how ruthless, I am. _No._ How ruthless, I know I _look._

I run a hand over my collarbone then I run both of my hands over the sides of my breasts. They slide into my curves. I settle them on my waist, on top of the black corset with its red lace bindings. This is the highest I want look. This is the highest I need to look. This is the highest I _can_ look.

I smooth down the glittering, black skirt of the dress – except there is no glitter. I suppose one could say it's illuminating. I step down from the metal stool and sigh, then look around.

I open my mouth to apologize, but no words can fall out. I stand there stupidly, mouth wide, and eyes on Yamanaka – I have no right to regard her by her first name anymore. Come to think of it, I never did.

Tailoress Yamanaka is quite gorgeous.

With her long, blonde hair, and her soft milky skin. And her, sometimes, sweet, soft voice. Not to mention that figure of hers – plus that quite revealing, purple outfit. My throat begins to blaze and burn with unspoken, envy-filled insults.

And suddenly, – horrifically so – I feel victorious that I jabbed a needle into her hand. I feel victorious that I had managed to rob someone so beautiful of their beauty – albeit it being an insignificant amount.

I feel victorious, indeed I do.

When she turns around, I gently yank up my dress, grab my other pair of clothes, and stomp back to my bedchambers.

On my way there, I attempt to convince myself that Tailoress Ino Yamanaka fully and welly deserved her stabbing.

* * *

One of my friends, Lady Tenten, volunteered to help me undress – so long as I return the favor later on. I agreed.

Now, I simply and silently sit on bed, surrounded by stuffed animals and soft pillows. Dressed now in a cotton, long-sleeved, red shirt - with the sleeves pulled to cover my hands, only the tips of my fingertips showing - and a flowing, long, black skirt pulled over my flat stomach, but the shirt still over lapping. With my legs curled underneath me, I think about the wrong-doings I had committed earlier while I attempt to read.

I raise my head to a gentle and familiar knock on my door. The sound echoes throughout my silent room.

"Come in," I say gently, lovingly, in the way I just _do_, knowing it is Lord Sasuke.

I am most definitely not disappointed, when the door creaks open.

"Lord Sasuke…," I breathe softly.

"Lady Sakura," he responds with a gentle fondness in his voice.

I swing my feet over the side of the bed and watch him cross the room in long strides. He kneels down on one knee and takes my hand into his. I then feel the softness of his lips against the back of my hand.

"Why are you here, Lord Sasuke?"

And instantly, the mood changes – from the affectionate, sweet, prince-like charmer to the emotionless, cold, dark prince-like bad boy. His, albeit intense, lovely, black-blue eyes are hidden by his black, with a touch of blue, bangs. Everything about him is beautifully dark.

"I have done something wrong, have I not?"

"What did she do?"

"What did _who_ do, Lord Sasuke?"

His onyx coals are set directly on my emerald, sometimes pale blue, crystals.

I would've blushed – _hard_ – had I not been confused, and slightly envious, and were he not nearly glaring at me. He must be upset.

_But about what?_

_What _could possibly upset Lord Sasuke Uchiha to this degree? What could upset him _at all_?

"Lady Ino," he says with a raised brow, I do not miss _the tone_ of voice he uses while saying her name. I do not miss _the way_ he says _her first name_. I do not miss that he says _her first_ _name_. I do not miss the way his _worry _is _bright_ in his _normally emotionless_ eyes. I feel a harsh pang in my chest. I feel fresh, salty tears pile in the back of my eyes.

"Oh!" I frown slightly. He catches it. Dammit. "I stabbed Tailoress Ino in the back of the hand with a needle," I sound light, carefree, nonchalant.

It scares me.

His eyes darken even more so than before. Lord Sasuke is ashamed of me. I can feel it in my bones. But I just simply cannot bring myself to care. _The wench insulted me_, I wanted to say, _therefore, I stabbed her. Well – really, she stabbed me first._ But I just sit quiet for a while, and watch him try to dissect me with those calculating eyes of his.

"The wench is lucky," I click my tongue. "That I did not stab all the way through," I close my eyes and tilt my head slightly in an arrogant manner. My arms and legs cross. My knee-length, black skirt rises to the begins of my milky, white thighs. I open my eyes to inspect how far it had risen. I catch Lord Sasuke's slightly glazed over eyes.

_So I am only beautiful to him?, _this time, not my rage, not my fury, but my sensibility thinks crudely.

Lord Sasuke heaves a sigh and gently sits unto my bed. He turns his body to face me slightly. The bed creaks under his weight. Lord Sasuke gently sets his hands on my shoulders.

"Sakura…," The raven starts softly, I can hear the disappointment in his tone. I brace myself for a scolding – no. I brace myself for an argument. I open my eyes again and glare at him. My eyes narrow in further, and I lean in. He retracts his hands.

"You are taking _her_ side," I muse, muttering dejectedly. "Lord Uchiha."

Lord Sasuke cringes, he despises when I call him that. He hates it when I am formal and stiff with him. So I will enforce it. With as much pressure and force as a meteor hitting the Earth.

I tilt my head, my eyes cold, my lips pulled into a deep scowl. Lord Sasuke once said that I am still beautiful, even when I am scowling. I believed him. I still do.

I await his response while coldly, calculatingly, analytically, and emptily staring at his handsome features.

A horrifying thought erupts from my heart and makes its presence known in my brain.

"Lady Sakura," Lord Sasuke begins again. "You should've acted rationally. You know be–"

"You have feelings for Tailoress Yamanaka, do you not."

The words fall as cold a statement not a question. Just as the way I meant for it to be. Just as the way Ino Yamanaka claimed for me to be bitchy. It was true, yes – but it was upmost unnecessary, especially when I was apologizing.

He looks shocked. He is most likely not surprised at my statement – but that a stupid, love drunken, puppy like me could figure it out.

_Or maybe, he's genuinely shocked, _another part of me hopes – the part that is forgiving, lenient, gentle, blind, too optimistic, stupid, and amity.

_No, _another part of me thinks hollowly in despair. _He's in love with her. _This is the part of me that is intelligent, calculating, analytical, honest, sometimes manipulating, blunt, and pessimistic - this is the erudite part of me.

"You are in love with her," I accuse eruditely with a touch of candor.

"Lady Sakura," he clasps both of my hands against his. "I assure you, madame, my affections are restricted and reserved solely for y–"

_Lies._

_Lies!, _I scream repeatedly inside my head.

"Lord Uchiha," I cut him off coldly; he cringes. "I believe it is best if you leave me to my thoughts – _alone_."

The ebony-haired, seventeen year-old boy opens his mouth to protest, I itch to raise a palm to stop him, but he cuts himself off and settles for a solemn nod.

"Al… Alright…," he agrees reluctantly.

He stands and walks to my bedchamber's door.

"I bid you a goodnight and sweet dreams, thy beautiful Lady Sakura." Lord Sasuke flashes me an apologetic smile. It does not reach his eyes and my fury grows. I suddenly acquire the ridiculously strong desire to take a light, but lethal object and chuck it at his eye.

"Fuck you," is what I want to say. "Get out," is the next thing that crosses my mind.

But instead, I settle with, "Lord Uchiha," my voice cold and holding finality. My eyes half-lidded dangerously, emptily, _deadly_.

Everything about me is _lethal._

With truly sad eyes, Lord Sasuke steps out and shuts the door gently. Good - he's out of my line of vision. He has crossed his boundaries enough for tonight. He has crossed his boundaries _into my domain_ enough for eternity, actually.

I feel another harsh pang in my chest. And I lose all sense in logic. I forget my name, my age, my home, my mother – everything. All I really know – all I know I really know - is that I am enraged. I am upset. I am mortified. I am lonely. I am heartbroken. I am dangerous. I am lethal. And I am sad.

So I sob and wail all through the dark night, hoping to quench the lethal and unquenchable fire inside of me.

* * *

A/N: I'm so sowwy! I can't update, "Screw You!", but I _promise_ it'll be up _next Saturday_. Jaa 'Ne!~


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